


Urgent

by orphan_account



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: ...but not really?, Dubious Consent?, M/M, bottom Stanley, top Stanford
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 10:19:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12209265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Their reunion takes a direction Stanley doesn't see coming.





	Urgent

**Author's Note:**

> The kids (and Soos) aren't present. Idek guys....idek.
> 
> So... The gravity falls fanbase has been so nice to me so I decided to orphan instead of deleting. I'm deleting my account because I can't handle all the hate and furthermore people who are hurt by my stories. That's mainly why I'm deleting everything, I don't want to hurt anybody.
> 
> If you're reading this and are in the least bit sensitive to any element of the story - DO NOT READ - I can't emphasize this enough. If you think you might be effected by the elements, please don't read.

 

 

 

 

Something like hope fills him, and seems to spill over into the generally exciting atmosphere, when the portal comes online.

Because finally - _finally_ \- Stanford is going to be coming home. Stanley has rescued him.

If there's one thing Stanley is sure of it is that their reunion will eclipse the contention and squalidness of their past. He's so sure that he hasn't spared a thought about their differences in years. He's focused solely on getting Ford back.

When Ford doesn't immediately appear Stanley feels something achy and sick twist in his gut. Only then he does appear and it's like Stan's a marionette and all his strings have been cut. Relief and a contentment too intense for words spreads through him. He can barely keep himself upright.

He smoothes a hand down his front, tries not to feel self conscious in his Sunday best. He wanted to look good.

Stanford looks good. Better than Stan certainly. Just the sight of him makes all of Stanley's neurons buzz. If anything, Ford looks much younger than Stan. It isn't surprising. He was always the trim one, the 'good looking' twin, and it only endears him to Stan because things haven't changed. 

Stan reaches out for him then, closes his arms around him as soon as Ford's within his reach.

If he'd taken a minute to process the look on Stanford's face he probably would have realized it wasn't a good idea.

The first curl of a fist into his stomach knocks his breath straight out of him. 

"You fucking idiot." Stanford bites out and it's so good to hear his voice that Stanley can't bring himself to act in kind.

The next hit pushes him over onto the floor.

"-ford." He says, just to say it.

"You have no idea how dangerous that was." It's even good to see the lines marked in anger on Ford's face.

Stanley gets up then, if a little shaky.

"I saved you." He says, which is maybe the wrong thing to say.

" _Saved_ me?" Ford asks with something like breathless disbelief.

He stalks forward and pushes Stanley. Stanley pushes back, marvels at the solidity under his fingertips. 

"A thank you would be nice." Stanley says.

"A thank you?!" Ford growls lowly just before he settles his fist into Stanley's stomach _again_. "You think I don't remember what you did thirty years ago?!"

He hits Stanley a couple times then, and Stanley tries to block, tries to fight back but he's easily, embarrassingly easily, overpowered. 

He ends up on his back on the floor, painfully, wheezily gulping for air. Ford's on top of him, presses into his diaphragm hard. 

Stanley's glasses are askew, his jacket button had popped off sometime during the struggle, and his shirt is half pulled out. His hat is missing and his hair is mussed and wild.

Ford looks perfect. There's not a hair out of place. In his get-up he looks like some sort of avenging angel.

The last thing Stanley expects is for a roving six-fingered hand to slip under his shirt and up his side. It swipes down his belly then, pushing at the softness under Stan's girdle, as Ford's other hand swipes it's thumb along his waistband.

Stanley isn't sure what's happening. His face goes red anyway. He tries in vain to halt the wheezing pants leaving his mouth.

Then fingers hook under Stanley's undershirt and haul it up to nestle under his armpits. It's humiliating, is what it is. He's sure Ford is about to make some crack about his weight because why else would he expose Stanley like this?

Ford's brow is furrowed in concentration as he undoes Stan's girdle and lets it fall to the wayside. It's demeaning and Stan feels a sob trying to claw its way out of his throat but he's able to hold it back, just barely.

"I never thought I'd see you again." Ford says calmly, evenly, "You understand that don't you?"

"Always knew I'd see you again." Stanley chokes out and it's the truth, the alternative had been unthinkable.

Ford's fingers drag across Stanley's not so insignificant gut and he feels a fresh wave of heat hit his face.

"I knew exactly what I was going to do if I saw you again." Ford says flatly, very nearly absentmindedly. It's the way that he says it that causes the first curl of unease in Stanley's gut.

"Are you okay?" he asks, because how could he not?

His eyes search Ford's face but Ford is, well, _Ford_. 

Ford reaches for Stanley's belt.

"Ford - what are you -"

"Be quiet, Stanley." he says as he yanks Stanley's pants open, backs off for a fraction of a second to drag them off of him along with his boxers.

Stanley's face heats uncontrollably,  though he isn't sure it's noticeable on top of all the other blushing he's been doing. He tries to sit up.

Ford _looks_ at him, at every part of him. Stanley pushes at him then and tries to cover himself with his hands only to have them caught in Ford's grasp. Ford presses him back down to the ground.

"I changed my mind." Ford's eyes meet his when he says it, "You can be loud."

It sounds awfully suggestive.

"F-ford." Stanley stutters out shakily, unsure if he's misunderstood.

"You got me back. I'm here. Just _let_ me."

Stanley doesn't say yes, it's too fast and he doesn't understand how they got there, but he doesn't say no either.

 

 

 

Afterwards Stanford can admit it was the wrong thing to do. He knew it was the wrong thing to do even before he did it - knew it even when the thought was first conceived in his mind. It hadn't seemed so damaging then. His only defense was that it had been a harmless fantasy. Lust twisted all through with an anguished desire to punish. Stanford's glad that part of it at least - the punishment - had only come across beforehand, hadn't crossed over into -

He could see how badly he'd shaken Stanley. His brother had trembled, had blinked dumbly, and Stanford had only dug his fingers in harder. Had pressed him against the dirty floor and -

Still, and he tells himself over and over, it's not like he _broke_ Stanley. 

Ultimately - Stanley is to blame. Because Stanley could have said no, could have clocked him, could have fought harder.

Stan's always been an easy target, and Ford has no qualms about pinning the blame squarely on him. He has more trouble, though, dismissing how it's affected Stanley.

Stanley won't let him out of his sight, although he never really meets Ford's eyes directly now - gaze always skittering self-consciously away. Worse, loud mouth Stan is silent - words fizzling out like defective sparklers every time Stan notices him near when he inevitably has to tend to Shermie's grandkids.

Still, for the most part Stan is always there at Ford's side, dogging him, as if the second he turns his back Stanford will be _gone_. 

It makes something in Ford ache. He dismisses the guilt he's feeling. Tries not to feel it.

Shermie's grandkids are a soothing distraction. They _love_ Stan, and Stan loves them back. Ford can't deny it's adorable. Stan's gruff, rough around the edges, and reluctant. If anything this side of Stan only feeds Ford's impulse to throw him down to the floor and ravish him again. An impulse that is always lurking just a heartbeat away.

Ford thinks about his brother's dishevelment that night, thinks _I did that_ and feels heat flood him. Then he remembers demanding Stan look him in the eyes at one point, and he'd been inside him then, and feels shame. Stan hasn't looked him in the eye since.

Even the kids notice something is wrong with their Grunkle Stan. There's a sullen, cautious edge to him that Ford doesn't remember from before. The kids comment on his outrageous laziness - as Mabel calls it - and his antisocialness, per Dipper. Of course kids would have trouble recognizing the warning signs of depression. He overhears the kids talking, though, about how at least Grunkle Stan doesn't wear his pajamas around anymore. He figures it's because Stan is too afraid to be undressed in front of him.

And hadn't Stan dressed up for him? Ford remembers fine, soft wool under his fingers. Remembers Stan's flushed humiliation when Ford had taken his girdle. He remembers the shy way Stan curled in on himself, tried to hide his body with his hands.

They don't talk, because Ford finds there isn't really anything substantial he can say. 

He wants to do it again.

But he's afraid he's broken Stanley.

 

 

 

It's somewhere near the end of summer and Ford forgets sometimes that Dipper is just a child. The boy has been assisting him, and he's unusually bright which is why maybe Ford forgets.

He snaps at him. It's a thoughtless comment after Dipper has just wrecked the small scale experiment they've been working on. Ford tells the boy if he can't handle such an easy task maybe he shouldn't even be assisting him.

Dipper gulps and runs out of the room without another word.

Ford grumbles, wonders if he should go after him. He waits a couple minutes for Dipper to cool down. It's just as he's about to go find the boy that Stanley meets him at the door.

Stanley, who hasn't dogged his steps for at least a week. Who still avoids his gaze. Ford will deny he's been missing Stanley's presence, even if sometimes it feels like a piece of himself is missing.

The look on Stanley's face is stern, hot anger flashing through it. Ford hasn't seen that look in thirty years.

"Listen here Ford - " Stan begins, pushes a finger into his chest, "you can't go making the kids cry like that. You...you asshole!"

Ford's so shocked at the outburst he doesn't respond.

"Go apologize and you better make it sound good Sixer or so help me God." Stan's glaring, and he's _looking_ at Ford then.

He's looking and he isn't cringing back. He looks a little embarrassed, maybe, but it's a little hard to tell under the weight of his passion. 

"Ford, are you even listening?!" Stan spits out then, expression tipping firmly into self consciousness.

It occurs to Ford that Stan's not broken.

" _Stan_." Ford chokes out, and reaches out to grab his lapels. He even drags him forward a little before Stan slaps his hands away.

Stan's face is red, at least a small part of it is disbelieving anger - the rest embarrassed coy flush.

" _Really_ , Sixer?! E-Every time you have a problem _this_ is how you deal with it?"

"Stan-" Ford tries again.

"Please. Pull the other one Ford. If...if you were interested at all you wouldn't have waited until now. I don't know why you - anyway that isn't important! Go apologize to Dipper!!" Stan's voice is really loud, near the end, and it makes Ford wince.

"Okay." Ford says.

"...well, okay then." Stan parrots back, as if he didn't expect it to be that easy.

Stan looks suspicious.

Ford almost thinks it can't really be that easy. Stan can't have been waiting for _him._ Stanley maybe isn't completely alright, and Ford can admit it's his fault but he's sick of being a coward about it. He wants Stan to be okay. He wants Stan, period.

Before Ford can think better of it he presses Stan into the door frame, crowds against him, and kisses him.

He feels the moment Stan melts against him, and it's only then when he pulls back. 

"Wait here for me." He says, voice hoarse.

His heart jumps into his throat when Stan nods and Ford almost leans in for another kiss, but he knows the sooner he goes the sooner he can come back. 

He leaves Stan, a little dazed, at the threshold.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
